(There is a sizable line in the drive-thru. A rental car pulls up to order.)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [restaurant]; how can I serve you today?”

(The customer and his wife proceed to order. They order a lot of food. The customer has a thick French accent, and I have to ask him to repeat a few things.)

Customer: “How long is this going to take?”

Me: “Well, we’re kind of busy; it will take about 15 minutes.”

(I begin repeating the order back to the customer to verify that it’s right, but he pulls ahead while I’m still speaking. About 15 minutes later, he pulls up to the window. My coworker brings them their food when it is ready.)

Coworker: “All right, so I have [order] for you.”

Customer: “No, that’s wrong. We wanted [order].”

(My coworker is fairly new, so I decide to take over. I send the revised order to the kitchen and ask them to remake it. Five minutes later, the order is done.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. Here is your order.”

Customer: “That’s not all; we want milkshakes, too.”

(I am very frustrated with this customer, but I keep it under control and ring up the milkshakes. I took five years of French class in high school, so I can understand it fairly well.)

Customer:*to wife, in French* “This place is terrible.”

Customer’s Wife: “It’s so slow!”

Customer: “And that skinny white boy is very rude.

Customer’s Wife: “Don’t be mean; he’s probably not that smart.”

(They laugh, and continue making fun of me. I finish making the milkshakes, and walk over to the window with a beaming, ear-to-ear smile.)

Me:*in French* “Thank you for your business today.”

(The man makes eye contact with me. His eyes are nearly bulging out of his head, as he realizes I have understood every word he and his wife said. I keep my eyes locked on his, and maintain my ghoulish grin.)